


Revenge Never After

by remarkable1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Hermione Granger, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Babies, Children, Draco Malfoy is a Little Shit, F/M, False Accusations, Good Severus Snape, Hermione's parents, I'm Sorry, Love, Magic, Marriage, Near Death Experiences, Not Canon Compliant, Not funny anymore, One-upping one another, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Pregnancy, Remorse, Scheming, Severus Snape Lives, Severus Snape is a Little Shit too, Sex, Sorry Not Sorry, Swearing, shouting, spells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:28:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23031730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remarkable1/pseuds/remarkable1
Summary: A petty rivalry between Severus and Draco has gotten out of control. Their final pranks culminate in near-disaster, but are cleverly resolved with the help of sympathetic staff and the feisty witches in their lives!
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 4
Kudos: 82





	Revenge Never After

**Author's Note:**

  * For [articcat621](https://archiveofourown.org/users/articcat621/gifts).



This was written for a challenge quite awhile back for my friend Arctic Cat. She's the bomb. I'm going through my folders and holy schnikies batman! I have a bunch more stuff to post. So ALL my HP stuff is either already written, or was a WIP that I am merely finishing off.

“Draco, you _mustn’t,”_ his wife Astoria pleaded, tugging on the edge of his robe. “The Headmaster will be furious!” 

The Malfoy heir shrugged her off a tad roughly, tsk’ing with annoyance at her interference. “I’ll only be one more …” he trailed off. Draco stuck his tongue to the corner of his mouth and squinted, putting the final touch on his handiwork. “There, all done,” he boasted, chuckling deeply. The smooth Slytherin’s voice had lowered significantly in timbre, his chest and shoulders full and flowing to a trim waist. Long, nimble fingers served him well as Hogwarts Potions Master. 

Astoria Malfoy shook her head with stern disapproval and shot Draco a look that could have melted Old Man Winter’s frozen heart. 

Draco didn’t care. He wasn’t going to get laid anytime soon, anyway, and the prank was worth either the wrath or possible sacking he faced. His Godfather had gone too far this last time. Their war of one-upping one another without going overboard or other staff noticing had just gotten personal. Draco’s mottled purple and gray, flaccid penis, agreed. It had been dastardly, and oh yes, Godfather Severus Snape would pay dearly. 

“Hermione, for the love of Merlin, _please_ keep Lilliana quiet. I can’t hear myself think.” 

The Charms Mistress quietly scooped up their bright, precocious three-year-old daughter and whisked her into their private chambers off of the Headmaster’s office. Her husband worked entirely too hard, refused to accept assistance, and stubbornly ignored the faint twinges in his chest. Oh, he thought he hid them from her, but there was nothing about her husband that Hermione Snape was not aware of. 

“Hush, Lily, Daddy’s working.” 

“Daddy’s a’ways workin’,” she replied in her slightly stilted speech. The raven-haired beauty bashed two toy dragons together and started to make the motions of a spell. 

“Lily! No!” 

The young girl dropped the dragons and stood up, staring at her mother, little brown eyes screwed up with distaste. She stamped her foot and screamed. And screamed. And screamed. 

Hermione sighed deeply, holding her aching back. It was getting harder to pick up even the slight form of her beloved daughter. The son growing in her belly was going to be a monster; she could feel it. “Lily, hush! Daddy’s working! You know you’re not supposed to make the dragons breathe real fire!” 

This only caused Lily to scream louder and resist Hermione’s efforts, biting and scratching at her mother’s arm as the heavily pregnant witch attempted to wrangle her fiery daughter into a hug. 

Severus burst into the main living area, his face like thunder. “I’m trying to _work,_ dammit!” he thundered, causing Lily’s eyes to go wide and, if it were possible, scream so loud it seemed the glass in the panes would break from the shrillness of it. 

Hermione stood, hands on her hips and lips thinned with tight anger. “Thank you very much! It’s past her bedtime, and I’ve been keeping her awake at _your_ request to say goodnight to her, but you’ve worked so late she’s screaming bloody murder. Now I’m NEVER going to get her down. YOU deal with it!” 

Stunned, Severus Snape could only stare helplessly as his extremely pregnant, loving wife of five years stormed into their bedroom and slammed the door shut. His eyes travelled to their daughter, and they softened, crinkling at the corners. Lily had collapsed into a sobbing heap on the floor and his heart melted with love, guilt and something deeper. 

He folded his long limbs and settled next to her, holding out a hand. Lilliana looked up at him tremulously, slowly allowing her tears to subside and hiccoughs to fall away. Finally, she took his hand and he swept her into the depths of his robes, holding her tightly to his chest. 

“Softly, poppet, softly. Duck, my duck, off to dreamland ….” he sang, crooning so softly one might think it was their imagination if they’d been in the room. In moments, he’d lulled the overtired girl to sleep and gently carried her to bed, wandlessly dressing her in a clean nightgown and tucking her in. 

The Headmaster paused at the entrance to the master bedroom chambers before entering. Would his wife forgive him? How many times had he asked it of her? Too many to count. The days blurred into one another and it seemed like just yesterday Lilliana had been born. Now, Hermione was bearing him a son and his heart swelled with joy. Maybe … maybe she was right and he needed help, above and beyond hid Deputy. Merlin only knew the job was eating Severus alive as student enrollment swelled, while the official Hogwarts budget did not. 

_I cannot afford to lose her – to lose them,_ he thought, firmly vowing that tomorrow he would set to the task of hiring help, even if he had to pay for it out of his own pocket. He would not allow his Hogwarts duties cost him his hard-won family. 

Pushing onward, the room was dark when he entered. Disrobing, he quickly put on some pajama bottoms and climbed gingerly into the bed in case his wife was asleep. He put an arm around her and placed a large, weathered hand on the stretched swell of her belly. His son kicked heartily and she groaned, moaning softly. “Severus, he was asleep. Now I’ll never be able to get comfortable.” 

“I love feeling our child growing inside of you. You’ve no idea how beautiful, how desirable you are to me.” 

“If you think I’m going to forgive you that easily…”

“Of course not,” he countered smoothly, soothing her with slow, gentle movements over her belly. Soon, his hands slid to what he could reach of her upper back and he kneaded, digging in around the vertebrae in just the right spots that normally made her purr like a kitten. After several silent, serious minutes working on her tight spots, he felt her relax. It was as if a rubber band had been released and come to rest. 

Gingerly, she worked her way onto her back and onto her other side to face him. He couldn’t see her in the full dark, but knew intimately how far she was from him by the breath on his face. “I still don’t forgive you.” 

“I know. You’ve no reason. My behavior was inexcusable.” 

“Yes, it was. I don’t even know what to say to you anymore. You know as well as I do what your stubbornness is costing our family.” 

If anyone else had pointed that out to him, he would have immediately floored them with a scathing retort. Hermione was not just anyone, and she was fully justified in making the statement. 

“I do. I’ve decided to hire an assistant to cover some of my duties that are too menial for Doug.” 

Hermione shot up, nearly knocking him in the face, as quickly as her pregnant bulk would allow. “Really? Do you mean it?” 

He followed her form with his fingertips, rising to his knees, bringing his hands to her face to cup her cheeks. “I do. There’s so much I want to say to you. You know how difficult it is for me to… ask for help.” 

“Yes. I was beginning to think…”

“No! Do not ever think that. Maybe I waited a little too long, but you’re right. It’s time.” 

“A little!” 

Her voice rose precariously and he winced inwardly, not wanting their daughter to wake up and crash the party. 

“Alright, more than a little. Please, don’t be angry with me, beloved. Please?” 

Hermione let out a deep sigh and his heart cried a little with her when a tear fell on his knuckle. Her own hands came up and covered his, and she turned his palm to rest her cheek within it. “I – I’m not angry. At least, I’m not anymore. I just feel so overwhelmed with my classes, and being so near term, and then there’s Lily –" 

The pregnant witch also melted a bit when her husband begged her not to be angry with him. Despite how hard he worked and irritable he could be, the dour wizard was still her very heart and soul, and a wonderful father to Lilliana.

“We will owl your mother. She’s offered her help and it’s high time I took her up on it. The castle will accommodate a small ante-chamber off of Lily’s bedroom for her to stay. Is your substitute fully trained?” 

“He is. I’ve got him teaching under my supervision this week and then I’ll be on-call until the baby is born.” 

He nodded, even though she couldn’t see the acknowledgment. 

“Severus?” 

“Yes?” 

“Have I told you how much I love you?” 

His heart did flip flops as she moved closer, her belly pressing against his incredibly insistent erection. Knowing better than to assume she was hinting at intimacy, he leaned down to capture her lips in a chaste, soft kiss, buttering her up. “Many times, but I never tire of your undying devotion.” 

“Severus!” Hermione slapped his chest lightly and sagged when he kissed her again, harder this time. When she melted against him as much as her pregnancy would allow, he knew she was his. Her small hand wrapped around his pajama-clad erection and he groaned, squeezing her breast gently in response. 

“Are you sure, love? You’re not too uncomfortable?” 

“Fuck me, please, Severus? I’ve missed you.” 

Severus thought his poor heart was going to explode from the deep wellspring of love he had for this woman. “Hermione, my love. Your wish is my command.” 

Her giggle turned up the corners of his mouth. 

Slowly, lovingly, he undressed her and himself, running rough hands over smooth, engorged breasts. Pebbled nipples felt like little diamonds and he tugged them, causing her to mewl with pleasure. Their foreplay advanced swiftly to his finger between her thighs. The witch had always been wet for him, and now was no exception. He’d learned early on not to talk to the baby while they were engaged in sexual relations. Nothing turned her off more quickly than that, for some reason. 

His long digit turned into two, sliding and stroking with his thumb pleasuring her pearl. Carefully, he turned her, placing his wife on her hands and knees before him. Her lovely bum wiggled back into his groin, his cock craving the friction as much as a dying man thirsted for drink. 

“Severus, fuck me,” she begged breathlessly, shoving her bottom at him time and again. 

“You drive a hard bargain, witch,” he teased half-heartedly, thrusting gently into her and grabbing onto her hips. “You lovely, lovely woman. You never cease to amaze me.” 

Her belly dragging on the bed, Hermione closed her eyes and savored the long, thick organ of her chosen inside of her. She was so close, and pulled one of his hands from her hip back to her clit. 

Deft, smooth strokes coupled with tight, quick circles of his fingers over her clit had her keening into the coverlet until her body went slightly limp from the hot pleasure. 

Severus wasn’t long after, the arousing clutch of her wet pussy sucking the life out of him as he cried out and spilled deeply into her, arching his back before slumping low over her form. 

“So good,” he breathed into her hair, combing it back with his fingers and away from her sweaty face. She didn’t respond at first, than tiredly murmured agreement and plopped down sideways into the bed, falling asleep almost instantly. Severus chuckled and cleaned them of their activity. Hermione used to tease him about falling asleep after sex, and now the tables were turned. As a friend of his, a wise husband, had once advised him, and he abided the words, he never took her to task for anything pregnancy related, simply enjoying the moment and tucking it away close to his heart. 

Yawning deeply, the Headmaster curled close to his wife and fell into a restful slumber. 

SSHG SSHG

Morning came too quickly, but thankfully it was a Saturday and the Headmaster could rest for a while. His Deputy was a stout, balding man by the name of Doug Clout. Severus secretly thought of him as 'Stout Clout' in his mind, but was careful not to bring it to the attention of the students, lest he give the little bastards any ideas. It certainly wasn’t the fanciest name, but he was Muggleborn and had a lot of leadership and education experience, which had impressed the Board of Directors. They had specifically appointed someone not previously attached to Hogwarts or the War, and were in favor of a Muggleborn to ‘represent the under-represented in our new society.’ Severus snorted to himself at the thought of the Board. They were still kissing arse after all these years. 

‘Deputy Doug,’ as the students had coined the Deputy, was a boring but thorough man. If the Doug hadn’t of had his hands full of additional duties, Severus would have off loaded some projects onto him, in addition to the menial tasks he would assign the new help. The assistant would have to do, however. The budget of the school could only accommodate a low level paper-pusher. Doug worked as hard as Severus, himself, did. Maybe harder on some days. 

It was nearly Christmas ‘hols, and Severus was really looking forward to a little more quiet with his wife and daughter. Maybe their second sprog would make a slightly early appearance, but Severus wasn’t betting on it. Lily had been a solid two weeks past her due date. 

As usual, Hermione was already up, dutifully keeping Lilliana somewhat entertained while he had a small lie-in. Eight o’clock wasn’t much of one, but it sure beat his normal five o’clock morning routine. 

Dressing swiftly, Severus mentally ticked off his shorter to-do list, which included breakfast, finalizing the budgeting forecast for next semester (not that the Board would approve any increases), and a short perusal through the Book of Admittance to keep an eye out for up and coming Hogwarts students. 

“Thank you. I’m feeling a bit refreshed,” he quipped, entering their living area. Lily sprang to her feet and shouted, “Daddy! Look at me! I’m a pwincess!” 

Hermione grinned and shrugged, motioning at the huge pile of dress-up clothes they had been digging through. 

Severus grabbed his daughter and lifted her up, whirling her around as she squealed with delight. 

“Daddy, dizzy!” she screamed, but not telling him to stop. 

Finally he did, and quick as you please, she was set down and back to digging through the gowns. 

“Do you have a lot of work today?” Hermione asked, trying to be nonchalant but bracing herself. 

Severus was smirking already, happy to surprise her for a change. “Not at all. A few odds and ends. I’ll be done by noon.” 

“Really? That’s wonderful! We can take Lily to Diagon Alley and pick out her Christmas dress.” 

Snape paled a little, hating the crowds of the holiday season but nodding anyway. “I need to get started, then,” he replied, bending to kiss his wife and daughter. He decided to take breakfast in his office. Kill two birds with one stone, and all that. 

As he settled himself into the large, comfortable chair, Severus got lost in the books for a solid two hours. Coming up for air, he decided to take a short break and summoned the Book of Admittance to him. It dutifully landed with a heavy THUMP on the desk. Severus had only understood the joy he felt when looking at the Book, after he had succeeded Dumbledore as Headmaster. There was a certain pride in knowing the names of magical children that would grow and thrive under the care of his school and staff. 

There were new entries and a few name changes, but only two that he recognized. A lot of newer blood was coming in from the Muggle world with each successive generation. Not needing to, but feeling indulgent, Severus dragged his fingertip down a page, looking for his and Hermione’s name and the words, “Baby Snape” after them. He swelled with love and pride on the inside, grateful to his witch for loving him and giving him the family he never had dared hope to have in adulthood. 

Suddenly, his brow furrowed and he looked up from the book, shook his head, and looked down again. He frowned, squinting at the page, then backed up a page and forward a page before slowly returning to the offending one. A slow, burning rage began to ignite, feeding off the corner of blackness that still resided within him, left over from his Death Eater days. 

_This **CANNOT** be right! It’s – it’s impossible! She wouldn’t do this to me, would she?_ Oh, gods… she would, and apparently, already had. Throwing his spectacles down on the desk, a lens cracked from the impact as he pushed himself to his feet, trembling from an anger so deep and violent he knew he had to get out of the castle before he hurt someone. The Book lay open, its dirty little secret revealed to the room. The portraits whispered uselessly amongst themselves as the Headmaster tore from the office in a fit of rage, throwing over the main guest chair and a stack of books before he reached the door and slammed it closed. The resulting sound left a thundering boom echoing throughout the chamber. 

SSHG SSHG

Morning, then afternoon, had come and gone. Hermione was restless and growing worried with each passing hour. Severus was not in his office, had not shown for lunch, and was also going to miss dinner at this rate. Her husband’s office had been in a bit of disarray, and even more shocking, he had left the Book of Admittance lay wide open on his desk. She’d quickly summoned it back to its normal, charmed and locked, resting place. Hermione also wondered if the loud boom she’d heard that morning had been something Severus had caused. 

Lilliana had cried for her father, their trip to Diagon Alley postponed in favor of her mother waiting for him to come back from wherever he’d disappeared to. 

The hour grew late and Hermione had long since put their daughter to bed, herself nearly asleep on the sofa when their bedchamber door opened and closed quietly. She snapped awake instantly, holding her breath, feeling the tenseness and anger radiating from the man that had taken his sweet time getting home. 

“Severus?” she called out, tentatively. “Are you alright?” 

For long moments he didn’t speak, only his silhouette visible, outlined by the dying embers from the fire against the backdrop of a portrait. Finally, he spoke, not moving, his voice sounding hoarse and very wrong-footed. “No. I am not alright. I don’t think I ever will be.” 

Hermione sprang from the sofa and nearly lost her balance in her rush to his side. She grabbed hold of his arm and was shocked when he twisted away from her almost violently. “Do _NOT_ touch me,” he hissed, stepping away from her to the liquor cabinet. Hermione heard the clink of his brandy decanter, but instead of pouring himself a finger or two full in a tumbler, he drank steadily from the mouth of the bottle until he finally pulled it away from his lips, gasping at the sharp burn. 

“Severus! You’re scaring me! What the hell is bothering you?” 

His harsh laughter did nothing to alleviate her concern. “Really. As if you don’t know.” 

“I don’t!” She quickly reigned in the shrillness of her response and took a deep breath to compose herself. Her husband obviously thought she had done something and, instead of being defensive, she needed to approach this calmly. He hadn’t moved, and she would not invade his space. 

Placing her hands on her stomach, she turned and walked to a window overlooking the grounds. The castle proper looked amazing in the waxing moonlight, cold stars twinkling like billions of ancient fireflies in the night sky. She waited until she heard him replace the decanter in the cabinet but noted he still hadn’t moved. 

“I honestly don’t know,” she finally said, doing her best to keep her voice steady. “You know I will talk about anything you’re willing to share with me. Please do me the courtesy of informing me of what I’ve supposedly done and know of, before assuming what you believe to be the truth.” 

“Truth,” he spat, and she could hear the bitter sneer behind that one word, laced heavily with accusation. “You want truth? I’ll give it to you.” 

She slowly turned, curious and extremely apprehensive. Hermione grimaced, their unborn son kicking her ribs solidly. At least she didn’t need to worry about having a healthy baby. The little one was strong as an ox already. 

“Sully,” she whispered when Severus stormed from the room to the Headmaster’s office. 

The house elf that serviced them popped in next her, looking up expectantly. “Sully is being here, Missus Snape.” 

Hermione bent slightly, her tone earnest. “I need you to stay near in case I need you. Stay out of sight and stay quiet.” 

The house elf laid her ears back at the request but did as she was told. Sully did not like the thought that her mistress might be in trouble. “Yes, Missus Snape,” she replied dutifully and ducked behind a floor length mirror. 

As if on cue, Severus strode angrily back through the door, a large book in his arms. Hermione thought she recognized it and then gasped when her husband came close enough for her to fully see his attire, the ghosting shadows he'd bathed in just a short time ago too dim for her to have taken note of the state his attire in detail. He was filthy, his clothing torn and travelling cloak in tatters. It looked as if he’d been in a brawl, or attacked by a wild animal. She hadn’t seen him in this state since … well, the war. Was he suffering from a mental breakdown? 

Concerned, she started toward him but he thrust the book between them, almost upsetting her balance. 

“Sit. Down,” he ordered her, and she complied, given no choice between his bulk and that of the large book. He slammed it down on the low table in front of the sofa. 

“Good grief,” she complained, covering her ears. “I know you’re upset but you don’t need to wake Lily.” 

“Open the book to page six-hundred and sixty-six and read,” he rumbled, voice deep with distress. When she was slow to comprehend, he whipped out his wand for illumination, causing her to flinch. Somewhere deep inside, it ashamed him to know he had caused the reaction, but his surface feelings were too overwhelming to care at the moment. He lit his wand and pointed at the book, the heavy, black dragon hide cover thudding open, parchment speeding to the desired page. Severus snapped the point of his wand to the offending line. 

Hermione gasped, looking from him to her belly and back to the book again. Blinking, her eyes kept wandering over and over the page and words, shaking her head emphatically. Panicked, she locked a frightened gaze with his terrible stare. “No, Severus! This isn’t right! There’s no way it could be true! I’ve never been with anyone but you from the moment we commit to one another!” 

“Then explain to me how another man’s name is next to your name, and that of your unborn son, in the Book of Admittance!” he nearly shouted. 

“Mine? He’s _ours,_ I swear!” she cried, trying to close the book, but his big hand held it open forcefully in front of her. 

“The Book doesn’t lie!” he roared, pointing at the offending name. “After I kill the son-of-a-bitch, _you_ are going to be reassigned quarters until I can find a replacement for your position.” 

He swallowed heavily then and seemed to sag, all of the years and experience of a difficult life weighing on each wrinkle in his face. “I don’t know how you could do this to me. I – just –,” and he turned away, shuffling a few steps to land heavily in his favorite chair, hands pulling in a long motion over and down his face. 

Hermione stared in disbelief. The offending name stared up at her, Severus’ wand having been dropped to the page, the illumination dimming as the spell wore off. How was it possible? It appeared plain to see that she had cheated on her husband, but Hermione knew with absolute clarity that it wasn’t true. Was an old enemy trying to get revenge on them? Had the Book been tampered with? What about the ancient spells placed upon it? 

The information and unanswered questions swirled in her head, threatening to drown her consciousness with stress and lies. Then a small form popped next to her on the couch and two phials were placed on the table. Sully smiled up at her, patting Hermione’s knee and then her stomach. “This takes care of the Master and Missus’ trouble. Missus trusts Sully, yes?” 

Hermione felt tears flooding her cheeks and her chest heaved, a sob held in check at the elf’s words. She nodded through the wetness and patted Sully’s tiny shoulder. “Yes, Sully. You’ve always been there when we’ve needed you.” 

“Missus and Master find the truth. Master’s potions not lie. Baby is Master’s.” 

Severus pulled his hands away from his face, looking more haggard than ever. “What are you babbling about?” he grouched, instantly at their side and snatching the potions off the table. 

Sully just smiled and popped out of the room, leaving the couple to it. 

Snape wandlessly lit the candles in the room and the fire roared to life. He squinted and then his eyes widened in recognition. “My paternity potions.” Blowing the dust from them, he looked at his tear-stained wife and back at the phials. “Let’s take care of this once and for all,” he said a bit more gently, encouraging her to get up. The mildly inebriated Snape felt slightly ashamed when she shrugged his hand from her, rising unsteadily on her own. 

She swept past him, refusing to meet his gaze and as she stiffly waddled to a dresser, clearing a small space on top of it. “Give them to me,” she said testily, and he handed her one. Extracting her wand, she placed the bottle and wand to her belly, murmuring a gentle incantation. The liquid in the bottle rose slightly, the amniotic sample the first step in the process. Next, she extracted a drop of her blood and added it. Finally, she held out the bottle to her husband and watched coldly as he added a drop of his own blood to the second phial, then inverted it and dumped it into the first one. Swirling it, less than ten seconds later, it turned a bright yellow. The sample was positive of his paternity. 

“But the Book-“ he protested weakly, wandering to the exit to their room and slumping against the door frame. 

“-is wrong,” she finished for him resolutely, placing the used potion on the dresser top and dragging him back out to the living area. 

She pointed at the sofa and he sank into it, his face etched with a multitude of emotions, none of which were happy. “But the Book-“ he stated again, gesturing at it helplessly, imploring her with wretchedness. 

Hermione ignored him for a moment, chewing on her lower lip. The baby kicked her in the ribs again and she grimaced, absently smoothing her stomach to soothe the babe within. 

“I don’t know how, but we need to figure out how this happened, and who did it.” 

“Hermione. My love, my life, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how I could- dammit. Bloody fucking hell!. I am such a failure.” 

Hermione hadn’t heard such despair coming from this good, strong, temperamental wizard for a very long time. She had no wish to see him broken over a bad reaction to a terrible misunderstanding, although he had to know she would make sure he made it up to her later. For now, solving this little puzzle was key; after they got some sleep, of course. 

“Severus,” she said gently, motioning for him to join her. 

He looked up at her dejectedly once more, his long black hair framing his rough, weathered features. “I will understand if you-" 

“Don’t even think about it. Get cleaned up and come to bed. We’ll deal with this tomorrow.” 

“But-"

“Severus?” she interrupted. 

“Yes?” he asked, the tiniest bit of fear in his voice. 

“Shut up and come to bed.” 

He closed his eyes and breathed the biggest sigh of relief, then took her hand and stood, following her silently deeper into their bedroom, and then the bathroom adjacent. 

A tear-stained, tiny little three year old wiped her eyes from around the corner, unsure of what had just transpired, but happy the two people she loved most in this world had quieted down and made up. Holding hands meant everything was okay. She put herself back to bed and hugged her stuffed, enchanted dragons tighter to her chest and smiled. 

SSHG SSHG

*Approximately ten days later.*

At breakfast on New Year’s Day, Hermione and Severus chatted amiably with the students that were still at the castle over the ‘hols, enjoying the ambient, festive atmosphere of the decorative yet intimate feel in the Great Hall. This was Hermione’s favorite time of the year, sharing this time to get to know her co-workers and a few students a little better. She beamed at her husband, proud of him for figuring out the very clever spell that had been nearly undetectable and responsible for masking the Headmaster’s name in the Book of Admittance. She was also extremely thankful he’d confronted her first instead of blindly murdering an innocent wizard that would never know of his supposed involvement in such a terrible prank. Unfortunately for Draco, Severus had put two and two together, furious, but ceding to his wife’s wishes for payback to be a little more subtle than what he had initially planned. 

She exchanged knowing glances with her husband, grinning like a loon. It was close to time to put their little plan into action. 

Severus stood and clapped his hands, gaining everyone’s attention. “Deputy Doug,” he began, resisting the urge to roll his eyes even as the students tittered on the rare occasions he used the informal title, “has arranged an afternoon of activities for you, and a visit to Hogsmeade in the afternoon. Curfew is six o’clock. Happy New Year. Will the rest of you join my lovely wife, Professor Hermione Snape and I, in the staff room? I have an announcement to make.” 

The students and remaining staff members murmured amongst one another, the students filing out of the Great Hall with the Deputy and the other staff lingering, one by one heading out the teacher's entrance and making their way to the staff room. 

Hermione resisted the urge to snicker. As they all filed in, she made sure the last two chairs available were between her and Severus. Normally, they sat together, but today was a special occasion. She was happy her mother had settled in just after Boxing Day to help with Lilliana. 

Severus slyly winked at her as he sat and nodded at each of his employees. Each one nodded back, their eyes hiding the secretive mirth behind stoic, professional masks. 

At last, Draco came in, sighing with impatience as Astoria settled next to him. She squeezed Hermione’s leg under the table, their sign that everything was ready. A house elf appeared next to Draco and offered him a bottle of champagne. The surprised wizard looked from the bottle to the elf and then to Severus. 

A rare smile tried to grip the Headmaster, but it was forced it back, although he did stand up when Draco’s confused look washed over the table. With bit of foolish wand waving, Severus closed the door and had a banquet of desserts and champagne glasses appear in front of the staff. 

“I have an announcement to make,” he said, his voice carrying easily and silencing the quiet conversations. 

“It is unfortunate that the first news is unpleasant. Doug has announced his resignation.” Convincing gasps were heard around the room. Draco picked at his nails. “I am sure you can find a spare moment to wish him well.” He waited until the room subsided again and nodded in Draco’s direction. “Professor Malfoy. Will you please rise?” 

Surprised, Draco looked to Astoria in confusion and when she nudged him, he stood up and faced his employer. “Godfather?” he whispered, quieting when Astoria heard him and nudged him again in the thigh. 

Severus placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling broadly. “It is my pleasure to promote you to the rank of Deputy Headmaster. Congratulations. You’ve earned it and I know you will serve the school well.” 

Draco was stunned. He was positive Severus was going to humiliate him after the trick he had played, although now he was unsure if his godfather knew anything about it. The spell had alerted him of its dissipation after it was inactivated. Had the enchantment collapsed without discovery? His thoughts didn’t have time to continue to manifest, for the table erupted in applause and his coworkers came to their feet, catcalls and congratulations ringing out in the surrounding ambience. 

Astoria leaned into him, saying, “Congratulations, Draco. I’m so proud of you.” 

Doubt slipped through his fingers and Draco grinned, mentally slapping himself on the back. Severus couldn’t have orchestrated something like this. Draco fancied he could read every last one of the people before him like a book.

“Will you do us the honors, Draco?” Hermione asked above the din, motioning for quiet.

Everyone remained standing as Draco took the proffered champagne from the elf and gladly poured a small amount into each person’s extended glass. He set the remainder of the bottle on the table, beaming with pleasure at the attention and seeming adulation. 

“To an accomplished colleague, mentor to young minds, and friend to many. All toast our new Deputy Headmaster, Professor Draco Malfoy!” 

Calls of “Here here!” and “To our new Deputy!” rang out, and one by one, the staff tipped back their glasses and emptied them of bubbling champagne. Even Hermione took a small sip, smiling into her glass. 

As Draco finished swallowing, he looked around the room once more and was puzzled at the suddenly strange expressions littering the faces around him. Quickly, his gaze turned to his godfather, who was also looking a bit green around the gills. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, placing a concerned hand on Severus’ arm. A look of alarm washed over Draco as Severus swiftly clutched his chest, a stricken look erasing the previous happiness; one filled with fear. 

“Godfather? Severus! Speak to me! What’s wrong?” Panicked, he looked around wildly, horrified to see each and every one of his co-workers in various stages of collapse, a very convincing foam dripping from their mouths, gurgling, faces turning blue and purple. “Fuck! What the hell is going on?” he shouted, startled by his wife’s hands on his teaching robes. 

“Draco … what … what have you done?” she rasped, falling heavily into her chair as her hands fell. 

He caught her haphazardly, shaking her, his peripheral vision noting thuds as each staff member finally dropped completely where they had sat or stood. “I haven’t done anything!” he insisted, recklessly rushing around the table, shaking each of his colleagues in turn and getting no response from their limp forms. 

“Draco!” came a weak voice, and he rushed back to his wife’s side, but she was silent, and he recognized the repeat of his name as coming from Hermione. 

“Granger!” he yelled, reverting back to the name he’d called her by so many years ago. He clutched her arm, bringing her head onto his lap, tears streaming down his face. 

“Draco,” she rasped weakly, gesturing faintly to her stomach and the surrounding room. “How could you? We … we trusted you … Draco …”

The Headmaster’s wife went limp in his arms and he screamed, horrified the Headmaster's very pregnant wife has just died. “Noooo! Nooooo! Help! Someone help me!” 

With an anguished cry, he ripped himself from the room, running at top speed down the hall and disappearing down the first set of stairs he came upon. 

After a full minute, Severus opened one eye carefully, noting the small nod from the trembling house elf. “Alright, everyone. He’s gone.” Snape Summoned and flicked his wand, nullifying the charm he had cast to make the scene look like they'd all been poisoned.

One by one the staff got up and brushed themselves off, and Severus assisted Hermione and Astoria to their feet. A few apprehensive looks joined with ones of concern and mirth. The Headmaster had anticipated this and pacified his staff with a few words. “I know this is highly unorthodox, but you will be compensated. Hermione and I are very, _very_ grateful for your assistance. I assure you, we would never have resorted to this level of undignified, unprofessional behavior if it weren’t the only way to resolve this.” He pointedly looked to Hermione and winced at her annoyed expression, for with that one look, he had effectively pinned the entire source of the idea on her, and knew that he would be in her debt for a long time to come. 

“You are all aware no one is to speak of this, ever. It never happened.” The staff nodded one by one and then smiled again when more alcohol and desserts appeared. “Enjoy yourselves. Hermione, Astoria, you’re with me.” 

The trio hurried down the hall, slowed to the fastest pace Hermione could effectively manage. She grimaced and touched her stomach, stopping unexpectedly. 

“Hermione?” Severus inquired, looking to Astoria and then to his wife with concern. 

“I – I think I’m in labor,” she gasped, and his breathed, “Oh Merlin,” had her in his arms in an instant, their short journey down the stairs to the infirmary seeming to take forever. 

When they reached their destination, he gently placed her on the nearest bed, yelling for Poppy. She popped her head out from caring for an unconscious Draco, frowning in his direction. “You’re going to have to wait. I’m still taking care of your little prank, Headmaster,” she scolded, disappearing again to minister to the potions professor. 

“Just a few moments, Hermione. Astoria? Can you stay with her?” 

Astoria nodded and his long strides had him in a flash at the side of their mediwitch. “Poppy! It’s urgent! Hermione’s in labor!” 

“For the love of Merlin!” she griped, standing up and placing her hands on her hips. 

“Is he alright?” Severus asked, momentarily concerned they’d gone too far. 

“Yes, yes, he’ll be fine,” Poppy huffed with annoyance. “No thanks to you, of course. Your little trick caused him to panic and miss the stairs. If you hadn’t have had the elves ready to intercept him, he would have broken his neck and back from the fall. As it is, he hit his head quite soundly on the way down. I hope you’ve both learned your lesson,” she scolded again. 

Irritated to no end, she closed her eyes and gestured uselessly behind her, then opened them and shot daggers at Severus. “You should be ashamed of yourself, cursing that young man’s privates. Honestly. If you weren’t the Headmaster of this school I’d take a paddle to your bottom, young man!” she fussed, beginning to move her bulk past him. 

“Yes, yes. No more tricks,” he assured her, sobered beyond measure by the near-miss, and chastened over her discovery of the curse on Draco’s penis. He would have chuckled inside, that little trick having come in handy when cursing the Marauders more than once during his school days, only this time, it really had almost gone too far. Their little feud would end here, today, or he would either fire Draco or resign his own post as Headmaster. It wasn’t worth taking a life over. Of course, he'd have to fill Poppy in on Draco's nasty little surprises, as well. It may have been a petty maneuver , but his potions master wasn't going to garner all the sympathy here when the little ferret had been the one to start the war in the first place by hexing Severus' hair neon pink for an entire day. 

Poppy stumped over to Hermione while Severus paced anxiously, shooed away by the women until he couldn’t stand it anymore. “What’s going on?” he asked, situating himself behind the curtain, peeking around it. His wife was sweating, laboring at an increasing rate. 

“What’s going on is that you’ve induced labor with your little stunt. I hope you’re happy.” 

Stunned, he pushed the stupid curtain aside and grabbed his wife’s hand, asking Astoria to go sit with Draco, and an elf to let Hermione’s mother know they were having her second grandchild that night. 

It was four o’clock the next morning when Alexander John Snape was born, kicking and squalling, into a world of magic, love and adventure. 

“He’s beautiful, my love,” he said softly, smoothing Hermione’s wet tendrils back that had been plastered to her skull. 

“He looks just like you,” she replied in awe, noting the beginning of a bump over the baby’s nose. 

“Oh fuck, he’s got my nose!” Severus complained, closing his eyes and swallowing heavily. 

Hermione laughed breathily, urging their son at her bared breast. He took to it like a champ, suckling the nourishing colostrum from her in strong gulps. “It’s alright, Severus. He’ll be just as smart and distinctive as his father.” 

“You can be the one to tell him that when he can’t get a girlfriend when he’s a teenager,” Severus griped good-naturedly. 

Hermione’s mother appeared, peeking from behind the curtain. A little head full of black, shining curls bobbed from the depths of her grandmothers skirts. 

“Daddy? Mummy? Is tha’ my baby?” Lilliana asked, edging forward timidly. 

Severus lifted her onto his lap and allowed her to lean in. “Gently, Poppet. Yes, this is your brother Alexander. You may call him Alex.” 

“Awex,” she cooed, and three adult hearts melted when she tenderly kissed her infant brother’s cheek. 

“Lily, your brother and I will need to stay in bed for a day or so, but you can be mummy’s big helper and make sure Nanny Granger and Daddy are taken care of.” Hermione knew her gorgeous, bright daughter had the motherly instinct from the moment she was old enough to pick up a doll. 

“Yes, Mummy,” she nodded seriously and Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. 

“I wuv you Awex,” Lily cooed sweetly, squirming to get out of her father’s lap. 

“Nanny. Let’s go pway,” she urged, already over the excitement of a new sibling. 

“I’ll come back later and hold him,” Mrs. Granger assured her daughter, glancing between the two proud parents. “Congratulations. I’m very proud of both of you. The next time you have an argument in front of your daughter, however, you’re going to be hearing from me.” 

The curtain closed and the husband and wife looked at each other in shocked surprise. 

Severus looked down, feeling the hot burn of shame rage through him all over again. “Our daughter heard us that night. Gods, I was hoping she’d slept through it. I didn’t even bother to check on her.” 

“Severus, it’s not your fault alone. I should have checked on her, too.” 

“I always manage to fuck up everything I touch, don’t I?” he snarled softly, digging his fingernails into his palms, clenched tight with self-loathing. 

“Severus Snape! You’re _not_ going to wallow in self-pity! We are going to chalk up this entire mess as a lesson learned, apologize to Lilliana and make sure it _never_ happens again.” 

She resolutely held his gaze with her own determined mien until his softened and his weathered hands unclenched. He reached for her and cupped her cheek. “You’re right. As always,” he conceded, determined to be a better husband and father to her and the children. 

“Besides, you’ve got some explaining and healing to do with Draco, and your new assistant starts tomorrow,” she grinned. “You’re going to be too busy to brood.” 

“I don’t brood!” he protested, clutching his chest in mock annoyance. 

“Oh, come off it!” she laughed and he smiled his rare, full, secret smile that was reserved just for his little family. 

As the sun rose, lighting the infirmary with its golden brilliance, a new life cemented and renewed bonds of love, commitment and family. 

Hogwarts welcomed all of the children the Snapes introduced to the magical world, and the Malfoys made their own significant contribution to the magical gene pool. It was a new generation to carry the mystery, magic and adventure into the future of the magical world. With a dash of silly wand-waving for good measure.

Fin


End file.
